Madge
by crisskisses
Summary: Everyone thinks she's dead,a body has been buried under her name, but Madge Undersee is not dead. Madge Undersee is very much alive. It's hard to find your place in the world when no one believes you're living in it. *Post Mockingjay*
1. Prologue

**Hey guys, this is the new story I'm working on starring Madge Undersee. Please stick through the Prologue because it really picks up next chapter when it switches to Madge POV.**

Prologue

Thom was a burly native from District 12. He was a miner, just nineteen years old which explained his crew, full of other young men like him. Well his crew was full of men of his age before the rebellion. After the heated and successful revolution and mutiny of the prior government lead by Katniss Everdeen, Thom was left working with only two hands full of people who were all over thirty.

Thom gingerly pressed a hand a hand onto his back as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the other, caused by the sun responsible for the baked earth he worked on. Of course, Thom was happy that the rebels had won the war for the control of Panem. If you had to put a label on him he was one of them. And he was glad that no more children would be subjected to the Hunger Games every year, it took a lot off his chest not having to worry about his little brother Alex being Reaped.

Both of them had made it with the precious few survivors of 12 to 13. It was a dull life. Thom did his time in the army but as soon as the rebellion had unfolded and victory was there's he took Alex and retreated back to 12. The desolate district was even more under populated than before but that didn't bother either of them.

None of the other miners in Thom's crew came back. He had expected this from Gale Hawthorne, who was always too ambitious for a district as unimportant as 12, but even crewmates who had lesser roles in the rebellion like Bristel had scattered at the thought of returning. Now Thom just worked with a few adults who were either burying the grief of lost family members in work, wanting to keep the small district alive, or just needed to get away from their previous home. The government was not picky about who got to live in 12. The district was far too needy for that.

The remains of a destroyed white house laid before Thom: charred rubble and ashes to be exact. He was in charge of corpse control today. The crew didn't mine any more; the mines were blown up in the rebellion so they were just trying to get 12 back on its feet again. After that, who knew? Mayor Undersee's house had not gained so much as a glance since before the explosions and Thom was queasy about what he might find. The bodies could be quite gruesome. He'd already accepted the fact that bodies were going to be found. Being the mayor might spare you from destruction in other districts, but not 12.

Sure enough, after sifting through soot and hauling away planks of burned wood Thom found bodies. Five of them. The mayor and his wife lay in the parlour, looking like they had been stuck by something or other when trying to escape the house. The two servants were in the place where their quarters used to be. The girl was with them too; the mayors only daughter appeared to be dead on the floor.

Thom walked off to alert his crewmates of the confirmed deaths so they could wheel over a cart and carry the bodies to the makeshift cemetery on the outskirts of town, with a saddened look on his smudged face.

"All of them?" asked a crewmate with closely cropped grey hair by the name of Jack when Thom broke it to him.

"Yep," he returned. "Mayor Undersee, his wife and daughter, and two workers. All dead."

Jack shook his head and Thom clapped a hand on his shoulder before they went back to the house to collect the bodies. It was sad. It was a shame. But that was it. Well, that would've been it, if it were true.

The mayor and his wife were dead, yes, and so were their two most trusted servants, but their daughter Madge was not Another girl of merchant class who worked for them had come to the Undersee house to help the addled Mrs. Undersee do laundry on the night of the bombing and she was the one Thom believed to be the daughter. She had the same blonde curls and the decaying flesh of her face hadn't invited him to stare very long. But no, Madge Undersee was not dead. Madge Undersee was very much alive.

**So reviews are much appreciated, especially because this is a pilot of source and I'd like to know if you want more. I'm not set on a title yet so it could randomly change, but keep an eye out!**


	2. Peacekeepers

**Hello all! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue, it made me really excited to write this story. I'm pretty sure that I told you I was gonna do Madge POV from now on but I changed my mind. I went for the omniscient thing with third person because I feel like switching up my writing style. Sorry if that's not your favorite thing to read but please give it a shot.**

-CHAPTER ONE-

Crawling out of the cellar of that big house she and her parents had lived in was one of the hardest things Madge Undersee ever had to do. Underground the bombing had ricocheted cans of preservatives all around and the floorboards above collapsed nearly on top of her. Climbing out of there no picnic. Still, the escape was nothing compared to the feeling that welled up in her throat when she looked over the remains of her district, her home. It was still smoking from the flames it went up in before her, assaulting her eyes and paining her heart. The tears started falling before she even laid eyes on the bodies of her dead parents, but those certainly contributed as well.

And they weren't the only bodies. Their servants Henrietta and Paul were dead too, also a girl Madge knew from school, Daisy Ponderosa, who was merchant class but looking to earn some extra cash. If it had been Madge helping her mother on the ground floor that day she would be dead too, just like Daisy. But Madge wasn't dead; she wasn't even above ground during the explosion. She was just retrieving a jar of jam from the basement. She didn't really need to retrieve it, most everyone was watching the Hunger Games. But most of them weren't good friends with one of the tributes. The truth was that Madge sometimes couldn't watch her friend Katniss fighting for her life, and at those times she always retreated to the cellar. Either way, that jar of jam saved her life, but maybe it took it too. Madge didn't know what to do with her home destroyed, her family dead, and anyone who she believed was a friend to her was no where in sight.

The days in the cellar were scary. There were three of them where she lived off of pickled limes or other preservatives. The sound of the first wave of explosions would stay with her forever and she knew it. Shelves toppled over and the noise of glass shattering was inaudible over the booms and crashes of exploding fire balls. She remembered running up the stepladder and trying to pry open the trap door above her, shouting at the others to get down in the cellar with her, where it was safe. But no one came. No one in that house was still alive to hear her shouting and the next wave of firebombs forced the trapdoor to crash down on the opening. Of course Madge tried to open it again, but it was in vain. Only after two hours had passed did she give up and sit down in a corner, trying to shield her head from the falling food and brace her body for the reverberating shakes that seemed like they would never end.

It was so cold and she was so scared but she faintly remembered one other human voice on that first day, in one of the calm yet terrifying periods in between one wave of bombings and the next. Something other than the explosions was making the ground shake; heavy footfalls of a person were racing through her demolished house and hands were scraping away at debris, looking for any survivors. They didn't find any, but they didn't give up right away.

"Is anyone here? Is anyone alive?" Madge heard a voice shout in a panicked voice from above. This was her chance; could the someone get her out of there? The voice did sound vaguely familiar.

"YES! I'M HERE!" she remembered shouting. "ME, MADGE!"

If the someone heard her they didn't act on her screams. She doubted they did hear her. Her shouts were loud but the explosions were louder, and they were starting up again. She couldn't blame the person for running for their life. And she certainly couldn't blame them for not helping her out of the little cellar. She didn't know this, but they never knew the trapdoor was there. The piano that stood on the ground floor had toppled over it in the first wave of explosions and now it was concealed by broken pieces of mahogany wood, strewn with the black and ivory keys she had once enjoyed playing.

Madge fully expected to die alone and unprotected in that cellar, with only the rats nibbling on preserved fruit that slopped out of its jars to keep her company. But, as most people know and the few who don't will surely figure out, expectations are almost never met. In Madge's case, that was a good thing although it didn't feel like it was for quite a while.

On the third day of hiding the explosions stopped. It took Madge a long time to coax herself out of the cellar. Every time she almost made it out she started to get scared that another wave of explosions would start. But they never did. It was sunset when she bucked up and scrambled out of the rubble.

After that and much remorse she did what she believed any sane person would do when confronted with the sight of their very existence destroyed; she ran. And she ran. And she didn't stop running until she realized there was no where to run to. She was lost on a strip of land not far from twelve, with her daffodil hair thoroughly messed up and her pale pink dress torn when she saw the train.

As the mayor's daughter Madge knew that the cargo trains sometimes came to 12 bringing basic supplies the Capitol gave them to live: bandages, grain, but usually just mining equipment. The biggest train came on parcel day bringing food for even the poorest of poor the year Katniss and Peeta won the Hunger Games. Being rich she hadn't needed any of that food but seeing the smiles on the Seam kid's faces made her happy anyways. But this train was not full of food or living supplies. Madge didn't know it at first, but it was full of soldiers and weapons. Deadly weapons.

Madge was slumped in front of the first tree she found that wasn't burnt to a crisp planning her next move when she had the idea. Looking back she would never know what possessed her to crawl into a compartment of that train to get away from the destroyed remnants and sad memories that was all District 12 now held for her, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. So she snuck into the train. It was full of Peacekeepers.

Immediately, one woman with a harsh face stood up and walked briskly to her. "Are you Peacekeeper Delaney?" she asked her, her lips in a hard line like she was tired and just wanted to get whatever task she was supposed to be doing over with.

Madge didn't know what to say. These were Peacekeepers, they had guns! She hadn't expected to be questioned; she had expected to be shot right away. A thousand responses clouded her mind, _No, I'm Madge Undersee, No, I'm just a poor girl who's home was just destroyed because of your people, Please don't shoot me. I_

"Well?" the woman prodded her sharply with the butt of her gun. Madge squeaked a little but tried to stifle it with a cough.

The next thing she said was either very brave or very stupid, "Um, yes?"

"Um, yes?" repeated the Peacekeeper skeptically. She looked over Madge and then grabbed her arm. "Whatever, I'm off schedule. Clancy didn't tell me you were going to be so young, or so…well, did you finish inspecting 12? Are there any survivors? Did the bombing go as planned?"

_Who is Clancy? _Madge thought as she steadied herself and decided to go with it. "No survivors," she choked out, pretending to have another coughing fit. On the inside she was screaming, _you killed my people; prepare to die! _She knew she could never harm any of them though. Madge was melodramatic like that.

"Why aren't you in uniform, Delaney?" asked the woman sharply.

_Rats, _thought Madge, _What do I tell her now? _So she settled for, "Um…"

"Whatever," the Peacekeeper interrupted her and then opened a crate marked uniforms pulling out an extra one. "Put this on in that room. I trust you're trained and ready for duty. You put that on and then sit down; we have a long ride to District 11. You address me as ma'am or Peacekeeper Tamora."

"Yes ma'am or Peacekeeper Tamora," Madge said before she could stop herself.

Peacekeeper Tamora raised an eyebrow, "We don't accept jokes here, Peacekeeper Delaney," she said firmly and then turned around to address other matters.

Madge didn't know what to do at first but then was reminded by the uniform in her hands. She walked to the room Peacekeeper Tamora told her to change in before it hit her. _What are you doing, Madge? These are the bad guys. Do you even have a plan?_ she asked herself. _Well no but they would have killed me if they knew who I was. I'm a citizen from 12. They obviously don't want us alive. _White hot anger coursed through her veins followed by perpetual sadness. Her family was dead, her district was gone, and she was working for the Capitol…sort of.

She pulled her ratty dress over her head and kicked off her sandals. Right now she wasn't in her best state; she had been living underground for three days. Soap would be nice. Sighing she pulled on the Peacekeeper uniform. It covered her from neck to feet; a white turtleneck with matching pants. It had body armour built in too to protect the Peacekeepers from being shot by the rebels. That's when it really hit her. She was dressed like a Peacekeeper so people were going to treat her like a Peacekeeper. They were going to District 11. What were they going to do? The answer came to her almost as soon as the question was formed. They were going in combat. They were going to war. _I can't go to war! _her insides screamed at her, _I'm meek, mild Madge. That's what everyone thinks. I mean, I can barely hold up this gun ma'am or Peacekeeper Tamora gave me. It's freaking heavy!_

Madge examined herself in a tiny square of a mirror. She kind of looked like a soldier, but a terrified one. She looked like someone pretending to be a soldier, which was exactly what she was.

"Get a grip," she told her reflection firmly, pushing the sadness away and locking it up in a drawer residing in some far corner of her brain. "You're going to stay alive for mom. You're going to stay alive for dad. You're going to stay alive."

Just then the door creaked open. Madge wheeled around, holding her weapon aloft in a very incorrect sort of way. There stood another of the Peacekeepers. A man who looked about twenty and had a false kindest in his face but some malicious tints in his bright green eyes.

"Hold your fire, miss," he told her, walking over and lowering her weapon for her. "Just coming in to check on the new girl," He surveyed her up and down. "Well aren't you terrifying in uniform,"

This reminded Madge of her old clothes that were still balled up in her hands. She looked down at them. She was pretty sure that _Madge Undersee_ was stitched on the insides of her possessions. That could prove a problem. She promptly threw them out an open window. The man looked at her oddly.

"Oops," she said.

The man nodded his head slowly; his eyes still lingering on places that she thought ought not to be lingered on. She crossed her arms protectively.

"So, um," she decided to say. "Who are you?"

"I'm Peacekeeper Radix, but you can just call me Jae. It's my first name," he said slowly, savoring the words. "You got a name?" he asked her.

_What's my name again? _Madge thought, _oh yeah, _"Delaney," she said a little uncertainly.

"You got a first name?" Radix said with a smirk.

_Do Peacekeepers go by their first names?_ "Um, Delaney is my first name,"

"Okay," Radix said, drawing out the first syllable. "You got a last name? I need to know what I should call you in combat," He took a step closer to her.

"Um, Hawthorne," Madge invented wildly. Yeah, that sounded good. "I'm Peacekeeper Delaney Hawthorne," She made a mental note of this. Then she mad a mental note right beside it to stop saying "Um" so much. Hopefully they wouldn't trace the name back to Gale Hawthorne, known rebel, and hopefully the real Peacekeeper Delaney didn't catch up any time soon. Was Gale even still alive? This brought down yet another crushing blow. She barely even knew the guy, but everyone she knew or barely knew or heard of from District 12 could be dead. She could be the only one left. She squeezed her eyes shut tight to trap the tears that were trying to escape yet again.

Jae Radix exhaled loudly. "Well Peacekeeper Delaney Hawthorne, we'd better get to our seats," He grabbed Madge's arm and lead/pulled her over to a bench where they sat down. Madge stared out the window until he started questioning her again.

"How old are you?" he asked in a tone much too suggestive for her taste. This definitely wasn't part of the plan. Then again, she didn't really have a plan.

"Twenty two," she answered randomly.

"Weird," he said, looking at her again. "You don't look a day over seventeen,"

_That's because I am seventeen,_ she wanted to say.

"So who trained you?" he continued.

"Um, Clancy," she said. Clancy's name had been mentioned earlier, it must be safe.

"Wow," Radix said, impressed. "He usually only takes on the best. You must be really good," he sidled up closer to her and she had to turn her face away for fear of their cheeks touching.

_Damn it, _she was thinking. _Not only do I have to fight in combat but they expect me to be really good now. Nice going, Madge._

"What's your district?" Radix continued.

Madge was stumped there. Didn't all Peacekeepers come from the Capitol? "What's yours?" she asked him to get off the hot seat.

"I'm from 2," he said with a smile. "Born and raised,"

"Oh," said Madge. "So am I."

"Really?" asked Jae. "Have I seen you around before?"

"No, I don't believe we have ever met," said Madge. She feared Jae was dangerously close to putting an arm around her.

But Jae wasn't giving up too easily. He just kept on questioning her about places where they could have met and she kept on calmly saying, "No," or "Nope," while on the inside she was thinking, _please stop talking. _When the conversation turned to the bombing of District 12 she really had to use all her self control to keep from screaming at him. Luckily, Madge had pretty good self control.

"It's great that it's finally gone. Such a waste of a district. If I were Snow I'd have blown it up years ago, just like 13.

Madge was taking deep breaths and counting to ten to keep herself from partaking in a mix of screaming and crying. All she could muster was a meek, "I agree,"

And the train ride went on like that, with Jae asking her questions and her making up answers when on the inside she was wondering how she would get out of this mess. How could she survive against the rebel forces in battle and how could she fight alongside the Peacekeepers that burned her city to the ground.

**I hope you enjoyed. This part is going on right after Gale took the survivors (including Katniss) to District 13 so Mockingjay's still going on. There's only going to be a few more chapters until we're off the Mockingjay timeline. Please review, feedback is, as always, coveted. Thanks!**


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